


Further

by Arianissa



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, First Time, I can tag honest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy Times, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianissa/pseuds/Arianissa
Summary: "I don't care. Whatever you want to do." His voice sounded rough. More so than he was expecting. But Jaskier just laughed breathlessly."Those are dangerous words, Geralt of Rivia. Dangerous indeed."Ari's first successful adventure into the wonderful world of Butt-Fuckery :)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 33
Kudos: 552





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, welcome :)
> 
> This piece marks two firsts for me; My first to be published here on AO3 and my first success in a decade-long battle to write smut.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :)

How had this started? Geralt honestly wasn't sure. They hadn't even been drinking. Yet here he was, sprawled back against the couch in their room with Jaskier straddling his thighs, bracing himself on the frame as he ground himself rhythmically into the Witcher. It was overwhelming. And apparently not just for him.

Jaskier was panting loudly against his ear, licking and biting as he saw fit. All Geralt could do was grasp his hips tight to keep him close and let the bard do as damn well pleased. 

"Damn, why is this so hot?" A hand moved to one side of his throat as the other side fell victim to Jaskier's mouth. Geralt groaned. "You want it to just be this or do you wanna take things further?"

And wasn't that a question. 

"I don't care. Whatever you want to do." His voice sounded rough. More so than he was expecting. But Jaskier just laughed breathlessly.

"Those are dangerous words, Geralt of Rivia. Dangerous indeed." Jaskier looked ridiculously pleased, a gorgeous shit-eating grin on his lips, as he leaned back to look Geralt in the eyes. He gave a few more thrusts against Geralt, towering over him with far more confidence than he had any right to have in this situation, before sliding back to stand. "Clothes off. Quickly." 

Geralt complied, dragging his shirt off while Jaskier's bare feet tapped away across the floor. While the bard walked, his own clothes were discarded until just his hose remained. And damn if they didn't frame his arse well as he bent to rummage for something in his pack. Not that Geralt was looking, of course. Not at his arse and certainly not at the glint of downright dirty glee in his eyes when he turned back to find the Witcher totally nude and back in his previous position on the couch. 

"Damn…" Jaskier was back on him in nothing short of an instant, hands on either side of his waist as he stood between Geralt's legs and all but chewed a bruise into his neck. He touched frustratingly little else.

"Jaskier… if you're going to do something, get to it!" He growled the words out, finding less control there than he expected. Gods, why was this getting to him so much? Jaskier shifted above him, coming face to face, so close Geralt thought he was going to kiss him. He held his breath as those mischievous eyes watched him, lips coming closer still. And then they were gone again. This damn bard was a fucking tease! He didn't have long to lament it though. Jaskier's knee came to rest on the edge of the cushion, a balance as he leaned down and began kissing Geralt's chest. His warm tongue trailed over fresh bruises and old scars, reaching a nipple at the exact moment fingers curled deftly around his erection. 

Geralt made a small, content noise that was definitely not a moan and relaxed back into the couch. If he had thought that Jaskier was done with his southward exploration though, he was pleasantly mistaken. As the hand around him began to move, so did the mouth, first travelling over to Geralt's other nipple and then across his side. The little bugger was biting again and if he stopped, Geralt may have had to kill him. The muscles of his stomach, his hip, his thigh. There would definitely be more bruises when this was done. 

As if sensing that thread of coherent thought, Jaskier ran his free hand along the underside of Geralt's leg, lifted it just enough to achieve the angle he wanted and bit again. His teeth burned across Geralt's inner thigh, so close to his cock that he almost didn't believe where this was going. He groaned again. Louder and freer than before. 

"You really need to make noises like that more often." There was a tremble in Jaskier's voice and yet he still seemed so composed. It was maddening. Almost as maddening as his hands pulling away. Jaskier reached up beside him as he shuffled around to get comfy on the rough floor, grabbing at a little pot. A salve of some sort? Geralt belatedly realised the other man must have dropped it there on his return to the couch. He also made note of the fact that Jaskier's legs and … other things were still quite hidden from him. Impatiently, he watched Jaskier fumble with the lid. "Actually no. Don't. Probably not the best plan to go around moaning and forcing me to jump you in public. People might talk."

The look on Jaskier's face said just how much he'd probably love for people to _talk_. Like he actually might do just that if for no other reason than to see exactly what people would say. Geralt dropped his head back against the wooden frame, focusing on the ceiling rather than that dangerously aroused (and rather disproportionately _arousing_ ) stare. 

"Damn it, Jaskier. You're going to be the death of me." The bard just laughed. 

Geralt closed his eyes, focusing instead on the fingers that had started trailing back up his leg. They crawled over one of the bites, then inwards to another. A thumb brushed so close to his groin before the hand slid away again. He really might kill him at this rate. That was the last thought before he felt Jaskier's lips, Jaskier's _tongue_ sliding up his cock. Starting at the base on the opposite side his hand had been, tracing all the way up, circling the head a few times before heading back down the other side.

Alright, that may have been a moan. Maybe. There was no question on the next though, as those bloody teeth unexpectedly pressed just gently enough around the top of his shaft. And then Jaskier was consuming him whole, as if taking him was the most trivial thing in the world. It took all of Geralt's strength not to push back but he couldn't keep his hands from moving. He needed something to hold onto. One dug into the arm of the couch while the other grasped for Jaskier's, still resting on his thigh. 

The two of them continued like that for a few minutes, Jaskier clearly in no rush to bring this to an end. Fingers began wandering again, almost wet this time, likely covered in whatever had been in that pot. First around the base of Geralt's cock as Jaskier worked, then slowly down over his balls.

Geralt was losing focus now, he hadn't expected this, never thought about the possibility and now he likely wouldn't forget. He barely bit back the next moan, breathing hard as Jaskier began massaging further down. It took Jaskier arriving at what was obviously his destination for Geralt to realise what he was up to. 

"Jaskier?" The tone wasn't panicked but it was enough to have the man stop. Half way down his shaft. The bard brought his gaze up to meet Geralt's and he could almost see the grin despite his mouth's current occupation.

Jaskier simply raised an eyebrow at him, eternally unperturbed, almost daring him to say something. And Geralt knew he had lost. Without another word, he closed his eyes, let out a shaky breath and let Jaskier resume.

The hand beneath his turned, taking hold in return and offering him a stronger anchor. He held tight as Jaskier picked up his pace, not by much but enough to have him disregard his thoughts once more. Then the second started moving again, slowly, gently and stubbornly avoiding what Geralt knew it wanted to do. Jaskier rubbed circles back and forth between his balls and his arse. It felt like an age before the fingers moved away, coming back seconds later with renewed slickness and finally, _finally_ one began to push inside him. 

It was odd. Not painful, not against the agonies he had faced but decidedly strange. Jaskier eased it into his rhythm and it fast became just another sensation in the torrent now threatening to overpower him. Geralt was just barely aware of the noise he was making. It wasn't loud but he knew Jaskier was likely feeling quite smug as he slid another finger into him. 

The pace increased again and again in the slightest, most precise increments. Like one of Jaskier's damn songs. A third finger entered him at some point and then it all became too much. Geralt released hard into Jaskier's mouth, the bard working him through it until every muscle was trembling and Geralt was left desperately trying to remember how to breathe.

Jaskier slid away, rising from the floorboards to crowd over Geralt's body again. His hands glided across the man's shoulders, teeth softly returning to his neck as Geralt recovered. 

Geralt took hold of Jaskier's hip, ran fingertips down his ribs and along his chest. Jaskier moaned lightly into his skin.

"Want me to…" Jaskier grabbed at the Witcher's wrist before he could reach his crotch. 

"No, nope. I'm not giving this up yet." He was so breathless, each word so beautifully strained but determined. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna take advantage of that stupid stamina of yours, touch you, bite, kiss until you're hard again. And then I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't remember what town we're in." 

It wasn't his best line but fuck, between the words and that devilish glint back in Jaskier's eyes, Geralt could do little else but moan and accept his fate.

_To be continued_


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is; time to get down to the sexy times!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my pretty EpharaWabbit, beloved beta and buddy! Reader of all my failed attempts at smut for the last half decade and still dealing with my shite here on my first success <3
> 
> Enjoy guys!

For all his frivolities, exaggerations, twists of truth, let it never be said that Jaskier wasn't a man of his word. For what seemed an eternity, the man teased, touched, licked. A never ending spiral of intimacy so unfamiliar. How Jaskier held to the frayed shreds of his control that day, Geralt was certain he would never know. For his own part, those strands had snapped long before the bard was even half way done with him. Perhaps for the first time, he truly appreciated the stories of supposed prowess the man often claimed to possess.

Geralt shivered, hand holding tight to the smaller one in his grip. Fingertips were just barely grazing lines up his shaft, encouraging it back to action with the most infuriatingly slow movements. 

"Hey." The word was soft but heavy and when Geralt opened his eyes in response, the pair that stared back were deep and unfocused. "You doing ok?"

"Gods, yes."

"Good." The mischief in Jaskier's gaze had dissolved somewhere along the line. Disappeared into whichever void his usual rambling had fallen into. "Bed?"

A nod was the best Geralt could do. At the affirmation, Jaskier rose from over him, pulling the taller man up onto shaky legs. From having the bard sat on him for so long and definitely nothing more. Once sure of his footing, Jaskier released him and began the trek across the room. It was unnatural, surely, to be able to remove hose while walking and not so much as stumble.

The suspicion was quickly outweighed by the sight of toned legs and the arse that Geralt absolutely still was not taking note of. And then of Jaskier in all his glory when the man turned back from the edge of the bed. 

"Are you coming? I know it's a sight to behold but Geralt, really, it's rude to stare." Ah. There was the mischief. Geralt allowed himself the smallest of smiles, a bare exhale of a laugh, and followed. 

Despite his words, Jaskier's own eyes didn't leave the Witcher's body until the man was pressed against him once again. He allowed a few short caresses, palms up his arms, a thumb brushing his neck. And then he all but shepherded Geralt down atop the sheets. Lips touched his leg even before he had settled, kissing quickly upward, licking over his hip as Jaskier climbed after him. 

Now this, this was what Geralt had expected from Jaskier's questions of further. That slim body pushing against his as it had been at the start, with nought but the addition of roaming hands and subtraction of clothes. Not the mouth that had tried to map every conceivable space from his neck to his knees. Not the rapt attention paid him against Jaskier's own want. Not the intensity of the eyes that now stared down at him again or, despite anything he may have believed before, that Jaskier might take everything offered. And Geralt would _let him._

The pressure of Jaskier's hands on his sides was grounding as hips pushed against his. Such small, controlled movements from a body that had seemed to have forgotten how breathing worked and whose every muscle trembled. 

"Geralt." His voice shook almost as much, words quiet but so sincere. "Swear to me. Swear to me you won't regret this."

Geralt nearly laughed, weaving his fingers tightly into Jaskier's hair and holding his eyes. 

"Little late for that, isn't it?" Gods, Jaskier was practically pouting above him. There was an urge that Geralt barely held back in that moment to just pull him down and kiss him. 

"I'm serious." Jaskier pulled back, forcing Geralt to abandon his hair. He settled on his knees, running his fingers down the legs that encompassed him. "I won't do another thing until you say it."

How in the Hells did he manage to look _adorable_ while spouting such unnecessary things. Watching the lines he was tracing and flicking his gaze to Geralt's every few seconds, waiting patiently, _patiently damn it_ , for the man's resolve to crumble. It did not take long. With the best world-weary sigh he could form, Geralt let him have his way _again._ He rather hoped this would not become habit. 

"Fine. I swear." Jaskier tilted forward almost immediately at his words, smiling far too brightly. "Don't look so damn gleeful or I might just take it back."

"No, you won't." There was not time to argue the point. One of those ever present hands was returned to his waist, balancing Jaskier's weight as it's partner slid across Geralt's inner thigh. In the shortest of moments, fingers had found their way inside him again. Geralt groaned as they moved slowly back and forth. 

This was ridiculous. Any more of this damn teasing would drive him to despair. He fumbled at his side, grasping the salve pot that had mysteriously made its way over with them. It had spent the last few minutes digging into his back, making itself known. Geralt pushed it firmly against Jaskier's chest without hesitation. 

"You are unbearable. Just get on with it." If looks could kill, he was certain the one on the bard's face would have ended him. Geralt's breath died in his throat as he saw that final, tiny shred of control slip from Jaskier's eyes. 

With a muttered curse, Jaskier grabbed the pot and sat up. The lid was discarded somewhere among the bed clothes and he scooped out perhaps a little too much of the contents. He was beyond caring. With little ceremony and not a small gasp, Jaskier smoothed his hand over his own erection. Then he was sliding back over Geralt's chest, one arm bracing his weight beside the Witcher's head. For a moment he just stayed there, looking at him. Geralt was about to speak up again when Jaskier's free hand grazed his thigh, disappearing down to guide himself into the other man. 

There was pressure and discomfort but damn, was it worth it as Jaskier's eyes flit shut, mouth falling open to free a moan. Fingers wound into silvery hair, the body above him pushing as close as it could. When the bard's eyes reopened, Geralt was given not more than a second to appreciate the torn apart expression within. The mouth that had worked to steal his reason and restraint finally took his own. 

Before he could think, Geralt was grasping at Jaskier's hips and kissing him for all his worth. Far from the hold Jaskier had maintained until now, this was undeniably passionate and utterly consuming. Even as he began to shift under Geralt's palms with small, careful movements, all his focus remained on that kiss. 

Jaskier's free hand trailed back up Geralt's torso, smoothing across his shoulder, down and back up his arm. Eventually it settled just beneath his clavicle, mouth reluctantly leaving it's post to bite at the Witcher's neck, reinforcing the marks he had already left there. Once Geralt had the space to breathe, he couldn't stop the small noises from resurfacing. He closed his eyes, ignored their existence, and let himself drown in the sensations. Sensations that grew by the second as Jaskier's tempo increased. 

Between every kiss and lick and bite, Jaskier's own voice was rising, barely able to keep air in his lungs. As his lips moved back up, his hand slid back down. The next shattering kiss was accompanied by a shift of hips and fingers round Geralt's cock. The rhythm was wavering, he could feel it. Jaskier losing every last shred of composure. It was so much and he was so close. Jaskier too. Just a little more…

"Damn... haah… I… Oh _Gods,_ I love you, Geralt…" Geralt tried to focus on the words but the hand tightening around him and Jaskier pushing as deep as he could conspired against his ability to process. Within seconds he was coming, clutching harder at Jaskier's arse, at his back, anything he could grip. The bard's own moans blended with his, Jaskier releasing inside him with one last, lingering kiss. 

With slow, shaky movement, Jaskier withdrew, falling to the side, Geralt's arm pinned under his shoulder. He slid his hand under his cheek, propping himself up ever so slightly. If Geralt thought any more colour could stain his own face, he was sure it would under that gaze. He groaned quietly, self consciously, and draped his free arm over his eyes.

"Oh, no, no, no. None of that. You promised me. You swore you wouldn't regret thi-eeeek!" The arm trapped beneath Jaskier quite abruptly pulled him close and he found himself held tightly against Geralt's chest.

"Shut up, Jaskier." The bard nearly answered back. Geralt felt his mouth open against his skin. But then he thought better of it, closed his mouth and settled against him.

The two men stayed like that for some time, just breathing. More than once, Jaskier wondered if Geralt had drifted into sleep. Yet there he remained, calm against his warmth. It was not until Geralt shifted, stretching out his free arm, that the bard entertained the idea of moving. With a smile to reassure the tired, questioning eyes that glanced up at him, Jaskier rose and clambered to his feet. His limbs felt leaden, barely deigning to hold him but he did not let them win.

Jaskier fetched the cloth from the room's wash basin, submerging one side to clean himself down. When he'd wiped the excess water from his skin with the dry edge, he redipped it and handed it to Geralt to do the same.

"Want some water?" The young man was already pouring a glass from the jug, glancing back with a small smile as he did.

"No, thanks." Geralt, finishing with the cloth, dropped it to the floor beside the bed. Then he shuffled under the quilts and watched Jaskier wander back over. The bed dipped as he perched on the edge. It was odd, seeing him sit quietly as he drank, staring at the wall and so obviously lost in thought. Geralt surprised himself, finding the desire to know what was going through that usually open mind wash over him. There was one question he had to ask though. 

"Jaskier, about what you said…" He wasn't sure how to elaborate beyond that, trailing back into silence and hoping that Jaskier would understand. This was not a conversation he was used to having. Certainly not one he ever thought he would have to have with his friend. 

"Hmm? Oh, that." There was a quiet pause, a look of contemplation running through those blue eyes. "Don't worry about it. I came to terms with it a long time ago, it won't change anything. And if this is my lot, I'm ok with that. Not to say that I wouldn't be totally open for a repeat of this in the future." 

It was said so calmly, so surely. No trace of regret or sadness. Just the acknowledgement of the situation and that daft optimism in the face of something potentially crushing. Geralt found it strangely reassuring. This was Jaskier. They had faced the worst and best of humanity together and he had come through it all with a smile. Geralt would not be the one to sully that.

"Heh. I think we can manage that. What about those poor women you're always flitting around?" Jaskier grinned brightly at his words, and if his own tiny smile grew a little in return, who was to know?

"Oh, it will no doubt devastate them. But given time, I'd bet they'll find somebody to fill the void." It was spoken confidently as Jaskier moved to put his glass back by the basin. A thought occurred to Geralt at that.

"Does this mean I won't have to follow you to all those damn balls now?" He didn't dwell much on his own words, on the implications therein that maybe, _maybe_ , there would be no need of protection from jilted husbands or lovers from here forth. 

"Whoever said that?" Jaskier bounced back down onto the bed, every drop of impishness he possessed shining across his face. He laid himself over Geralt, lacing his fingers together on the man's chest and resting his chin atop them. He looked so honestly happy there, staring up him. "I'm sure I can find some trouble to warrant your protection."

"Well fuck." It was a token protest and they both knew it. If there was any doubt, the laugh that followed would obliterate it. Monsters and men be damned, Jaskier had spent years trying to convince him he deserved some happiness. Perhaps it was time to accept it. 

_Le End~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this one, wonderful people. I really hope I've done these boys justice :)
> 
> Do drop a comment if you enjoyed it or have any criticisms. I don't want this to be my last as well as first smut so anything to help me build on my work is greatly appreciated! 
> 
> I'm hoping to start work on a little plot bunny for these two in the next few days, will be a bit longer and have a little more filling ;p So do keep an eye out!
> 
> Thanks so much guys! 
> 
> Arkansas x

**Author's Note:**

> Well that's it for part one :)   
> Do let me know what you think, I'm incredibly anxious to know how this reads to other conersiours of smutty goodness.  
> Part two should be along in a couple of days at most.  
> And on a final note, if any of you lovely people are like me and find the small number of Jaskier's songs available upsetting, then I have found something that may help tide you over to season two. Have a search for The Amazing Devil on Spotify or YouTube. Extra doses of that pretty face and prettier voice ♡  
> My personal favourites are King and Battle Cries. May you get as much joy from them as I have ^^
> 
> Arianissa x


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